


Take Her To Pick Wildflowers

by TheJaskiestOfThemAll



Series: Magic mirror on the wall who is the hungriest of them all [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Gen, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Pre-Relationship, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Trying to be protective Geralt, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJaskiestOfThemAll/pseuds/TheJaskiestOfThemAll
Summary: “Jaskier, shut up” hissed Geralt. He didn’t know what the monster was. The villagers hadn’t been very forthcoming with the details. He only knew that it took people that wandered too far in the forest and ate them. From what the villagers had said, it ate them alive.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Magic mirror on the wall who is the hungriest of them all [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1793725
Comments: 5
Kudos: 72





	Take Her To Pick Wildflowers

**Author's Note:**

> Me: tell them explicitly when this is  
> Also me: they watched The witcher they should be good with crumbs
> 
> This is the second in the series woop! And I don't know how to feel about it woop! I don't think you'll get everything if you don't read the first part but you do you.

The moonlight couldn’t reach them here. Under the thick cover of the trees, in the deepest part of the night. He hadn’t refilled his cat potion supply since the last hunt and no Igni could be cast, the monster needn’t be alerted of their presence before they had even found it. They, yes, because Jaskier had insisted on coming with him on the hunt, something about Geralt never giving him the details of his hunts and because trying to leave Jaskier behind would be useless. The bard would follow him anyway and probably get lost in the darkness, or worse.

The bard was walking a few feet behind, humming and strumming his lute as he did. This was not a song Geralt remembered Jaskier ever signing. It must have been new. 

“Jaskier, shut up” hissed Geralt. He didn’t know what the monster was. The villagers hadn’t been very forthcoming with the details. He only knew that it took people that wandered too far in the forest and ate them. From what the villagers had said, it ate them alive. One girl had survived they had said. The baker’s son had found her crawling desperately back to the village. Crawling because she didn’t have legs anymore. Some followed the path of her blood in the forest, they didn’t come back. The girl died of infection not even a day later. 

He was going in with no information. He couldn’t afford to make any wrong moves. There was more than just his life on the line. He looked behind him and could make out Jaskier’s silhouette. The stupid man should have stayed back in the village. There was no magic for him to feed on in this forest, only darkness and the scent of wildflowers. It would have smelled quite agreeable if it wasn’t for the stench of death clinging to it like a long lost lover.

A stench that was getting more pungent by the moment. The thing had found them. 

Geralt signalled for Jaskier to stay back. Hopefully, the bard would listen to him this time. He didn’t want a remake of the werewolf hunt.

For a moment he could hear nothing but the shy whisper of the wind in the trees. 

Then- A weight on his back and pain at his neck. Did they always have to target the neck! The thing jumped away, disappearing in the trees. It charged, again and again, coming from all sides seemingly at the same time.

It wasn’t stopping its assault. Geralt tried to reposition himself in the tight space between the trees but it wasn’t stopping! And he didn’t have enough place to swing his sword properly. Fuck! He was breathing deeply now and he could feel the blood dripping under his armour from where the creature had taken a bite of him. 

He made a decision and took off running. He could not outrun the creature but he didn’t need to. He just needed- Space! There was a space without trees, not big enough to be called a clearing but big enough to swing a sword.

He turned around suddenly and cast Igni. The sky lit up with a bright orange light, illuminating the monster. It made a horrifying noise and its face twisted in a snarl. The creature retreated in the trees waiting for the light to fade. It was using the darkness as a shield. Geralt took a deep breath. He needed to concentrate on the sound of its next assault.

It touched the ground. It was getting closer and closer and- Igni!

The creature shrieked in surprise as flames appeared in front of it and went to protect its eyes. The witcher seeing an opening, attacked.

Sword and claws clashed in the night.

Finally, Geralt hit flesh. His sword passed through the creature’s arm, easily detaching its hand from the rest of its body. It howled in pain. The thing jumped backward and fell on its knees on the grass and the mud. It continued howling, holding on its stump as it leaked a putrid-smelling ooze. 

Suddenly it stopped screaming. It scented the air, looked at what was left of its arm and started taking bites out of it. It was eating itself. It had lost all focus on Geralt and was just...eating its arm. 

At this moment, Geralt could only pity this creature. So hungry that it would eat itself. That was a creature suffering and he could not let suffering like this go on. He advanced toward the thing and, cleanly, severed its head from its shoulders. The body fell to the ground with barely a sound even in the silence of the night. The head rolled toward the trees where Jaskier stood. 

Geralt breathed out and went to feel his wound. Shit, that was going to need stitches. He cast a small Igni, just enough to see and examine the thing’s body. He would have to write everything down the next time he was at Kaer Morhen. The body looked like….a woman’s body. If that woman hadn’t eaten in a month. It had what would have been clothes, once upon a time. The skin was a sickly shade of grey. On the hand that was left, he could see black long claws. 

He was going to continue his observations when he heard a faint noise. He turned around.

Jaskier was on his knees. Why would he let his breeches get mud on them, Jaskier hated dirty clothes. He even hated when Geralt had dirty clothes on. He frowned, this was unnerving.

Jaskier, head bent forward, shakily reached out for the head in front of him. He took it in his hand.

“Dahlia” he whispered. The tears came right after, welling up in his eyes and overflowing, running down his cheeks to the ground like a river to the sea.

He smelled of pain. This was not what his f- what the bard was supposed to smell like. He was supposed to smell like joy and flowers, like sunshine and smiles. 

Jaskier brushed the thing’s- Dahlia’s brittle grey hair to the side “You should have come to find me, you stupid stupid girl,” He hugged the head gently to his chest, “We shall see each other again my friend, in the shadow of the well.”

He got up, head still in his arms and went to place it next to the body. He wiped the tears from his cheeks and looked resolutely at Geralt “Burn it all, please.”

Geralt burnt it all.

They went back to the village in silence.

When they got to the inn, the innkeeper asked Jaskier for a performance.

Jaskier forced a smile “My dear man, this hunt has tired me so! I must rest so that my performance never stray from perfection but, and that I promise you,” he raised his voiced and addressed the whole room, “Tomorrow you will all be the first to hear my newest song! How the mighty white wolf defeated the monster that plagued your village!” 

The crowd cheered drunkenly. Jaskier turned around, his smile fell from his face, and he hurried up the stairs. 

He followed Jaskier up to their room

“You should sit down, I’m going to stitch up your wound. I also ordered a bath before we left, it should be here soon.” 

Geralt sat down on the only chair in the room. Jaskier was too silent. He wasn’t asking for the bard to start talking but the silence... wasn’t comfortable. He couldn’t look up at Jaskier’s face while he was stitching him up. He couldn’t do anything. Geralt huffed, he wouldn’t have known what to do anyway. 

“There, all done so don’t go ripping them off”

“Hm…...Jas-”

-There was a knock at the door.

“That must be the bath,” Jaskier got up to open the door and prepared the bath for Geralt “Now get in you big lug, you smell horrible” 

Geralt got in. The warm water felt wonderful. He never used to get many baths before Jaskier came along. It was always quick dips in cold rivers with cheap soaps bought for too much. He closed his eyes.

He heard Jaskier sit down on the bed and take a deep breath. “Her name was Dahlia. She was my friend,” he paused, “We used to go pick wildflowers together,“ He huffed sadly “She was always so careful with the flowers, she was always so careful about everything. I can’t believe she’s gone.”

Geralt opened his eyes and turned to look at Jaskier “ Do you...what happened to her?” 

Jaskier looked at Geralt in the eyes “What will happen to me if I stop being careful like she did,” He blinked “Why do you think I eat magic Geralt?”

Geralt frowned. He used to think Jaskier was like a higher vampire. That he took magic from others because he wanted to not because he needed it. But the more he travelled with the bard, the more he realized that, no, Jaskier wasn’t doing this for pleasure. Sure he seemed to enjoy the aftermath of eating magic but the action? No, he didn’t seem to like taking from others.

“You need it”

“I need it,” Jaksier acquiesced, “If I don’t feed this is what I’ll become, this is what all of my kind will become.”

“Why?” Geralt asked. What would be the reason why Jaskier, if he stopped feeding, would become the kind of monster that ate even themselves. A curse? Something worse? 

Jaskier looked out the window into the early morning, “We used to control the chaos of this world but we wanted more. More chaos, more power. We put all we could into a collective source of power, a well of chaos. But the more you have, the less control you hold. We lost control and now the chaos controls us.”

Geralt clenched his jaw. This was concerning. Chaos was dangerous. Sorcerers didn’t like people who didn’t have control of their chaos. He couldn’t let Jaskier meet any brotherhood affiliated sorcerers. It would be too dangerous. 

“Jakier”

“Yes, my dear witcher?” 

“Do you...need to eat?” Geralt asked. He needed to know if they had to go find a contract for a wayward sorcerer. He should check Jaskier’s feeding habits more closely from now on. The bard didn’t have any self-preservation.

Jaskier gave him a rueful smile, “Don’t worry Geralt, you don’t need to kill me just yet! We’ll be in Cintra in a few weeks I’ll be able to find something there.”

Jaskier started fidgeting with his hands but didn’t reach out for his lute like he usually did. He stood up abruptly, “I’m going to go get some ale.”

He slammed the door behind him as he went. Leaving Geralt alone in his cold bath.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so since I feel kinda bad about not being clear on when this is, it's just before they get to Cintra for Pavetta's betrothal feast so a few years before the first installment.


End file.
